


sugar lips

by ShowMeAHero



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Big Dick Richie Tozier, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23634940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: Richie leans into him, kissing him three times on the cheek before he goes to take his glasses off.Eddie reaches out and stops him with a hand on his wrist.“Not sleepy yet?” Richie asks. He turns his hand, tangles his fingers with Eddie’s and kisses the knob of Eddie’s wrist.“No,” Eddie murmurs. He tips his chin up and catches Richie in a kiss, licking into his mouth before Richie can do it first, turning to push him down into their mattress.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 352





	sugar lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruuhroh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruuhroh/gifts).



> For [Bendie](https://twitter.com/ruuhroh)!

Richie doesn’t do anything particularly out of the ordinary. He lingers in their master bathroom after Eddie’s already finished his nighttime routine, brushing his teeth and scrubbing at his face. He’s been forgoing shaving recently; the dark black hair that almost immediately started taking over his face made Eddie interested and twitchy.

While he’s turning off the bathroom light, he yawns, rubbing at one eye with the flat of his hand, dislodging his glasses. It sends an explicable jolt of heat rolling through Eddie and he has to stop himself from shifting when his cunt tightens in an instinctive response. Richie shucks off his shirt before he gets into their bed. Eddie just tracks the line of his back as he turns to toss the soft t-shirt in the hamper Eddie keeps tucked in the corner. He  _ used  _ to just leave his clothes all over the place; it’s one of a million small compromises they’ve made to adapt to one another over the years.

Richie climbs into bed in just his soft pink sweatpants, worn and threadbare. Eddie’s teeth grind together before he forces them to stop, consciously making his shoulders relax from down around his ears. Richie leans into him, kissing him three times on the cheek before he goes to take his glasses off.

Eddie reaches out and stops him with a hand on his wrist.

“Not sleepy yet?” Richie asks. He turns his hand, tangles his fingers with Eddie’s and kisses the knob of Eddie’s wrist.

“No,” Eddie murmurs. He tips his chin up and catches Richie in a kiss, licking into his mouth before Richie can do it first, turning to push him down into their mattress. Richie smiles against his lips, biting at the bottom one before he nudges Eddie back off.

“What’re you thinking?” Richie asks, eyes already dark. Eddie just tugs him in for another hard kiss, heat starting to gathering with more intent, more pressure in his groin, making his cunt  _ throb.  _ He exhales roughly, rolling his hips up into Richie’s; he can feel Richie’s cock getting hard in his sweatpants already, filling up stiff and fucking  _ thick _ against Eddie’s thigh when he slips his leg between Richie’s.

“I want your mouth,” Eddie tells him, because it’s all he can think. His mind is entirely occupied by Richie’s fucking  _ mouth,  _ and Richie just smiles down at him, that crooked big grin he does where his stupid wonky eye crinkles up too much. Eddie yanks him down into another kiss, throwing his arm around Richie’s shoulders and his neck so he can haul him in.

“Fuck,” Richie whispers roughly, shivering when he sits back to shove their covers out of the way, down to the foot of the bed.

Eddie shimmies upright, starting to tug his shirt off over his head, but Richie’s faster than him, taking his tank top by the hem and yanking it off over his head.  _ This  _ shirt doesn’t end up in the hamper, instead ending up unceremoniously dumped on the floor. Richie’s fingers are hooked back in the waistband of Eddie’s pajama pants before he can even take a breath.

“Is this okay?” Richie asks. Eddie nods jerkily, so Richie tears his pajama pants down to get to his boxer-briefs underneath. His pants join his shirt on the floor before Richie licks over the fabric of his underwear, the flat of his tongue hot and damp over the wet spot soaked into the material from Eddie’s cunt. “Fuck, you’re so  _ wet,  _ what the fuck turned you on so much?”

“You,” Eddie answers. In the next breath, he groans, Richie’s tongue slowly dragging back up over him again.

“What about me?” Richie asks. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

His breath spreads hot over Eddie’s damp underwear, making it stick to him; he shivers, and Richie pulls his boxer-briefs down slowly, tugging them down his thighs until he can get them over his ankles and off, tossing them aside, too.

“Eds,” Richie reminds him, pulling his attention back as he nuzzles his face into Eddie’s bare inner thigh. His beard burns the sensitive skin there and Eddie moans, head dropping back into their pillows as his chest tightens.

“I just fucking looked at you and wanted your mouth,” Eddie confesses, all in one breath, and Richie smiles against his skin. He nips lightly at the flesh there, then sucks on the bite until Eddie’s squirming under him, unable to stay still as his clit fucking  _ throbs _ and the heat pooling in the base of his spine is growing more and more intense by the second.

Richie pulls back, licking the bite mark under his mouth on Eddie’s thick thigh before murmuring, “You got it.”

Eddie doesn’t have time to ask what he means by that before Richie’s pinning him to the bed by his hips, his long fingers spread to grip into the meat of his ass. His tongue licks over Eddie’s cunt from his perineum all the way up to his clit; he sucks there, hard, then slips one finger into him. Eddie’s hips buck up, and Richie moans, the sensation vibrating through Eddie’s body from his clit.

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps, reaching down to tangle one hand in Richie’s hair. The corners of Richie’s glasses dig into his thighs before he pulls back briefly to tug them off and set them aside on the mattress. Eddie uses his free hand and his last coherent brain cell to move them to the nightstand.

“Love you,” Richie murmurs into the crease between his thigh and his groin. His fingers dig in  _ hard _ to the muscles of Eddie’s thighs, and Eddie whines involuntarily, a rough sound that tears up out of his chest. Richie reaches up with one of his big hands to palm at Eddie’s waist before sliding roughly up to one nipple, cupping his pec in his hand.

“I love you, too,” Eddie manages to choke out as Richie slips a second finger into his tight entrance. He makes himself relax, from his shoulders down his spine and his hips; when he makes his thighs relax muscle by muscle, he can feel his walls relax, too. Richie’s two fingers massage inside him, slowly, slipping in further until Eddie’s shaking.

Richie stops hovering over Eddie’s clit and drops his head again to lave it with his tongue. His grip on Eddie’s nipple is tight; he slips a third finger into Eddie’s cunt at the same time, and all the heat pooling in Eddie’s core spills out of him, pouring like waves of fire through his body and  _ out,  _ and Richie just keeps  _ going. _

“Rich, Richie,” Eddie groans, his brain going blank and then blissfully, emptily staticky; he can only think Richie’s name, can only stare unfocused up at the ceiling as the image of Richie’s dark head between his thighs plays on a loop in his mind’s eye.

When the last tremors of his orgasm have worn off, Richie carefully slips his fingers out of him, dragging his hands to Eddie’s waist and his mouth up until he’s kissing over the strong, flat planes of his abs and his belly. Eddie feels relaxed, boneless and wrung-out; that doesn’t stop him from leaning up into Richie’s kiss when it comes, his mouth wet and his cock hard, still through his sweatpants, against Eddie’s thigh.

“C’mon, c’mere,” Eddie says, tugging at Richie’s hips. Richie grips Eddie’s face tight in both hands, shifting so he’s hovering over him for one last kiss before he slips back down to the hollow beneath Eddie’s throat.

“You wanted my mouth,” Richie reminds him. He drags his tongue along a hot invisible line along Eddie’s chest, straight to the nipple he’d neglected the first time around. Now, though, he licks right over his nipple, then murmurs, “I’m going to give it to you.”

Eddie shivers, the inner walls of his cunt twitching around  _ nothing. _ He grinds up into Richie again, unable to stop himself, but Richie pushes his hips back down.

“Lemme get my mouth back on you first,” Richie tells him. He keeps one long arm across Eddie’s hips, the other slipping down between them to press hard into Eddie’s clit until he whimpers. Richie pulls back, then, just a bit, before dragging his thumb over it, the heel of his hand digging into his mons, and Eddie still wants him to push  _ harder,  _ to give him  _ more,  _ so he tangles his hand up in Richie’s hair again and tightens his grip.

“Come  _ on,  _ Richie,” Eddie says, voice deep and gruff, his throat raw. Richie pauses, taking a long, deep breath; Eddie can feel his cock fucking  _ throbbing  _ against his thigh, so he rolls his hips up into him again. “C’mon—”

_ “Eddie,”  _ Richie says.  _ His  _ voice is so deep it rumbles up out of his chest; Eddie can feel it vibrating against his belly, and he shivers. Richie kisses his nipple, then says, “Up to you.”

“Go back,” Eddie says, barely coherent. Richie kisses his chin before dragging back down to his belly and his clit again, licking the wetness that’s been gathering since he last left. Eddie’s chest is a splotched-red mess of beard burn; he uses the hand not still wrapped up in Richie’s messy hair to tweak his own nipple, the beard burns stinging sharply like sunburns when he does it, and he shudders.

The heat’s gathering strong and hot in his cunt again, throbbing through his core and his groin. The feeling only intensifies when Richie ducks his head just a  _ little  _ bit further, his tongue slipping into Eddie’s slick entrance, spreading his folds with his fingers so he can lick deep inside him.

Eddie groans, the sound torn from deep in his throat without his permission. He tips his head down just so he can see him again, to burn a new image into his brain, and he nearly loses his  _ mind  _ watching him. His black curls spill like ink over Eddie’s hand tight in his hair, his face flushed and his beard and mouth all wet when he lifts his head to smile up at Eddie.

“Enjoying the show?” Richie asks. His voice is scratching and gruff, and Eddie pushes him back down a little bit. It’s completely involuntary, but he just wants his mouth back on him so  _ fucking  _ bad, he doesn’t know what else to do. Richie’s smile just widens before he blows a kiss up at Eddie and drops his head again.

Richie wriggles a hand up in between them, gets the heel of his hand on Eddie’s clit again, his palm spread over his mons and his fingertips digging into his belly. Eddie can’t stop himself from pushing up into him, which is exactly what Richie wants and  _ exactly  _ why he does this. He lets Eddie fuck as hard as he wants up into his hand, lets him grind into his hand until he finds the exact right rhythm and position; the entire time, Richie keeps eating him out, saliva and slick mixing into a wet mess that makes Eddie shiver when it pools on his tongue and spills from his mouth.

Eddie can feel Richie twitch, his hips pushing down into the mattress before he shifts to push his other hand down his sweatpants. He tugs on Richie’s hair to pull his face up.

“What?” Richie asks, breathless, lips slick and beard wet as he looks up at Eddie. His skin’s all flushed red as he waits for Eddie’s answer.

“Don’t touch yourself until you can cum on me,” Eddie tells him. Richie shuts his eyes, dropping his head just for a moment so he can inhale, long and deep, then exhale slow. He pulls his hand out of his sweatpants and opens his eyes to glare up at Eddie. The effect’s slightly ruined by his smile and the aroused blush of his face, but Eddie loves it all the more for that.

“As you wish,” Richie says, his eyes all black with a thin ring of bright blue around his blown pupils. He turns his head to bite into Eddie’s thigh without breaking their eye contact, sucking another mark there until Eddie’s head falls back and he groans. “I win.”

“Win what?” Eddie asks.

“Staring contest,” Richie tells him, and Eddie’s about to argue before he’s thumbing his folds apart again and licking into him, nosing along the thick hair until he can get his tongue in  _ deep.  _ Eddie shivers, gripping Richie’s head between his hands, pulling up to curl over him, unable to stay flat on his back and motionless anymore.

He bows his head over Richie’s, trying to find the right angle before Richie grabs him by the hips and yanks him up. Richie tugs Eddie’s ankles up until they’re folded around his head and his neck. Eddie uses his new leverage to fuck himself up into Richie, which just makes him huff a laugh.

“Lemme at least get my mouth—  _ Eds,  _ lemme get—” Richie tells him, laughing when Eddie tries to tug him back in too early. He pushes Eddie’s hands away and gets his mouth on him again, licking back inside his cunt. Eddie tightens his thighs around Richie’s face, unable to keep himself from fucking up into his face.

Richie has spent years,  _ years  _ learning everything Eddie does and doesn’t like, perfecting his technique so he can bring Eddie off as many times as he wants in any ways he wants when he asks. That being said, nothing’s really better than when all of that falls out of Richie’s head and he just gives up and does whatever feels best; it’s one of Eddie’s goals every time they fuck, to make him lose his grip on his unending internal monologue and focus completely on just feeling good with him.

Eddie finds that when he tightens his grip on Richie’s head with his thighs. Richie shudders, his hands flexing where they’re holding Eddie’s thighs and his ass, fingers digging in tight as his mouth goes slack, just for a moment.

“Rich,” Eddie manages to say. Richie shakes his head infinitesimally, just a centimeter, then redoubles his efforts. He drags his tongue up from Eddie’s dripping hole to his clit again, sucking hard, his fingers slipping back into his cunt again without hesitating. Eddie cums for the second time on two fingers and Richie’s mouth, secured neatly between his thighs.

When he can’t keep his muscles in place anymore, he relaxes, his legs falling on either side of Richie as Richie withdraws and lifts his head. He sits up on his knees; Eddie can see his cock through his sweatpants, hard and aching and dampening the fabric with multiple wet splotches. The sight of that makes Eddie’s mind short-circuit; his cunt’s still throbbing, wringing the last of his orgasm out of him.

He melts into their mattress, just for another minute, letting his foggy brain clear again before Richie props himself up on his elbow next to Eddie. He’s exactly where he’d left his glasses; he would’ve crushed them, if Eddie hadn’t moved them. Which is why Eddie moved them. A million tiny compromises.

“Feeling good?” Richie asks. He wipes his mouth off on the back of his forearm, and Eddie grimaces, his nose wrinkling up even as he laughs at him. “Hey, this is  _ yours—” _

“Not anymore,” Eddie tells him. “Now, it’s yours.”

“I want a refund,” Richie says. Eddie pushes at his shoulder until Richie’s flat on his back, now, and Eddie’s straddling his hips.

“Will you take an exchange?” Eddie asks. He shifts back a little more, lifts himself up then down so he’s seated right over Richie’s cock where it’s pinned in place by his own underwear in his sweatpants against his leg. He rolls his hips, grinding his wet, naked cunt over Richie’s damp sweatpants and his hard cock. Richie groans loudly as Eddie asks, “Maybe I could interest you in store credit?”

“You smart-mouth son of a—” Richie starts saying, before Eddie ducks his head down and catches him in another kiss. Richie _whines,_ deep in his chest and his throat, before grabbing Eddie’s hips in his hands and thrusting up into him. Eddie pulls back, _tsk_ -ing at him.

“Don’t make me call security,” Eddie warns. Richie swats at him.

“You talk a big game because you’ve already cum  _ twice,”  _ Richie says heatedly. “I’ll remind you I’ve cum  _ zero times  _ so far so I’m a  _ little  _ distracted.”

“Are you ready to cum?” Eddie asks. “Do you want to be done?”

Richie’s eyes glint at the challenge, his whole face lighting up when he smiles and says, “Got another one in you today, Eddie? What’s this, sixth of the day?”

“Shh, shut up,” Eddie scolds him. He still smiles softly back when he kisses Richie again. “I think I got one more.”

“What’d you want?” Richie asks. Eddie surveys him on his back in the bed. Richie grins.

“Stay still,” he says, and Richie pushes his own hair back, up and out of his face. Eddie grabs one of the hair elastics off of Richie’s nightstand and pulls it back for him, a loose bun at the back of his head so his hair won’t fall in his face of his eyes.

Richie settles himself back down on a pillow and drags Eddie over in  _ seconds,  _ but Eddie’s not ready yet. He stops to pull Richie’s sweatpants off, tossing them to the floor before tugging his underwear down and off, too.

His huge cock’s thick and red, when Eddie gets his hand around it, jerking him once, twice, sliding his precum down to slick his grip as he leans up to kiss Richie again. He lets go of his dick after only a moment, though. Richie whines.

“Eds,” Richie begs, and Eddie moves up to get his thighs on either side of Richie’s head. Richie shifts himself around, his hands tight on Eddie’s thighs as he finds the rest positioning for himself. When he’s ready, he tugs down on Eddie’s hips, and Eddie does as he asks.

When he gets impaled by Richie’s tongue as he sits on his face, he barely manages to keep himself from shouting out loud. He’s oversensitive from the two orgasms he’s had in the last hour and the three others he’s had throughout their Saturday; it’s a miracle he manages to get his hands on the headboard instead of just punching directly through the drywall behind the bed.

Eddie clings tight to the upper edge of the headboard to brace himself as Richie licks into his cunt and sucks at his clit, all rhythm and intention lost as he messily drags Eddie to his hypersensitive edge again. Eddie drops his head, shivering, to push his forehead into the headboard, too. The wood is cool against his sweaty face as the heat gathering in his core spills up and over the rim of him again.

Richie can tell when he’s done, rubbing at Eddie’s hip until he gets his brain back online. He lifts himself up and off of Richie’s face, parking himself beside him before flopping on his back, one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress.

“How d’you wanna do this?” Richie asks, shifting up to sit against the pillows a little bit. He leans over the bed to grab Eddie’s tank top and wipe his face off on it before he free-throws it towards the hamper and misses by a mile. Eddie remembers belatedly that his glasses are still folded up on the nightstand; he huffs a breathless laugh.

“I still want you to cum on me,” Eddie tells him. Richie nods, pushing himself up onto his elbows before he gets up above Eddie again. He yanks Eddie down by his ankles until he’s flat on his back, halfway down the bed. Eddie shrieks, then laughs until he’s cut off by Richie kissing him again.

Richie pulls back just a bit so he can get himself between Eddie’s legs, separating his legs until he’s spread out before him, wide open and oversensitive and dripping still. When Richie shifts up over him, he guides his cock down to his folds but doesn’t push in, and Eddie’s fucking  _ grateful,  _ overstimulated and in love and turned on and his brain dissolving into white noise.

Richie fucks into Eddie’s folds, rubbing his cock hard between his lips as he drops his head to latch onto Eddie’s throat with his teeth. He sucks a hard hickey into the soft juncture of his throat and his shoulder as he fucks the wet folds of Eddie’s cunt with his huge dick.

He’s so turned on that he’s trembling in Eddie’s arms when Eddie tugs him over for another kiss. His rhythm stutters and falters, his breaths tearing out in half-sobs as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. Eddie encourages him to chase it, grinding up into Richie’s cock as he keeps fucking his lips.

“Fuck, Eddie,  _ fuck, f—”  _ Richie cuts off abruptly, his head falling until his forehead presses into Eddie’s shoulder, his hot breath bursting out across his chest as he tries to get a grip. “Fucking—”

“Cum on me,” Eddie reminds him. Richie has barely the presence of mind to move, but he does, getting one arm underneath himself until he can maneuver himself up.

Richie looks down between them; whatever he sees makes his pink chest flush even more with splotches of red, and he shifts up onto his knees, one hand holding Eddie’s waist down as the other goes to the base of his dick. He wraps his fingers there tight, just for a moment, stilling himself, before he exhales slowly and jerks himself once, then twice.

“Look at me, Rich,” Eddie tells him, and Richie does. He opens his eyes, and even though his glasses aren’t on, they’re close enough that his eyes focus on Eddie’s face. His hand stops on his cock, just for a second, before he pumps it one last time and cums  _ hard.  _ He paints Eddie’s cunt and his folds, up over his clit, splattered through his dark hair, up across his abs, his belly.

Richie watches the cum dripping from Eddie’s lips, rolling down the sides of his waist and his hips into their bedsheets. His chest is still heaving; Eddie’s heart is  _ pounding,  _ and he’s almost aroused again, but he’s too fucking overstimulated to go another time, so he just pulls Richie down by the elbow until they’re laying side-by-side.

After a long couple of minutes where Richie just catches his breath, he turns into Eddie’s side, burying his face in Eddie’s shoulder before kissing him on the hinge of his jaw.

“I fucking love you,” Richie mumbles into his skin. He kisses him again and again there, messy and open-mouthed, barely kisses at all. When he gets his brain back online, he lifts himself up and drags his hand down from Eddie’s throat to his navel. “You’re a fucking  _ mess,  _ though. Picasso canvas-style.”

“Shut up,” Eddie tells him. Richie drops his head to kiss him again. “Will you change the sheets while I shower?”

“Only if I get the end of the shower with you,” Richie barters. They stare each other down for a moment, Richie’s eyes slightly unfocused from moving just a little further apart. In the end, Eddie acquiesces; he never had any intentions otherwise.

When Eddie’s throwing their clothes into the hamper on his way to their master bathroom, Richie stops him to ask, “We don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow, right?”

Eddie frowns. “No, I don’t think so, it’s Sunday. Why?”

“Thinking I’ll try for seven,” Richie says before winking at Eddie. His beard’s a mess and his hair’s all tangled, his red face splotched and his glasses sweat-smeared and crooked on his nose where he’s shoved them haphazardly into place.

Eddie’s skin ripples with goosebumps. “If you want.”

Richie laughs, loud and excited, before he launches himself up and off the bed. Eddie darts out of his hands, laughing himself when he sprints to their bathroom and slams the door shut, locking it before Richie can chase him any further.

“You have  _ ten minutes  _ before I’m coming in there!” Richie calls to him. Eddie laughs again, but he does unlock the door and open it a crack before he actually steps into the shower. He’s not a  _ monster, _ after all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can (and should!) come chat with me on Twitter at [@nicolelianesolo](https://twitter.com/nicolelianesolo) and/or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


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